


been better lately

by fated_addiction



Series: about last night (and every night after that) [3]
Category: K-pop, Korean Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, SM Entertainment | SMTown, So Nyuh Shi Dae | Girls' Generation, 소녀시대 | Girls' Generation | SNSD
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/F, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-29 00:17:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12618820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: incheon feels like home.Tiffany, on life in airports. The metaphor is weirdly appropriate.





	been better lately

**Author's Note:**

> So unintentional series for the win?
> 
> I guess I wanted to keep pushing the Yulti thing. Mostly because I like them. This one was hard because Tiffany isn't someone I usually write, but I definitely liked the challenge. This is a pseudo sequel to keep the light on and a part of the [about last night (and every night after that)](http://archiveofourown.org/series/854288) series. Just because.

incheon feels like home.

which is weird. and sad. and weird and sad. and a feeling tiffany _hates_ when the plane lands and the screen sings _welcome to korea!_ with a small plane and a logo. it’s bittersweet at best. she can’t decided whether it’s the idea of failure. or everything else that comes after.

“i’m here,” she greets yuri first. on the phone. the sound of her voice is gravelly at best.

“so am i,” yuri yawns. then slurps loudly. “drinking coffee.”

“i hear that.” tiffany is dry. spots yuri by a coffee cart and waves. “thought you were filming.”

“finished early.” yuri hangs up. meets her halfway. “hi,” she shoves a coffee into her hand. tiffany blinks and there is a sticky kiss against her forehead. “you look tired,” she says too.

“ugh thanks.” tiffany wrinkles her nose. then strongholds yuri into half a hug. she feels tired and lazy and digs her fingers into yuri’s hip. “clearly, you’re the romantic one.”

yuri smirks. says nothing though. lets tiffany keep her arm around her waist. tiffany watches her take her carryon too. and earns another kiss against her forehead. it should seem poignant. tiffany feels a small flutter in her belly. it’s also two am.

they remain quiet until the elevators. it’s sparse enough so that tiffany’s large sunglasses seem excessive. but old habits die hard: her clothes are creased, not wrinkled; small, careful sips of the coffee yuri bought recognize her lip color; of course, there is not a strand of hair out of place either.

“hey.”

when the elevator doors close, yuri pushes her into a corner. they both stumble. and tiffany laughs into a fierce, nearly searing kiss. the sound is muffled; the coffee flavor on yuri’s tongue is subtle.

“you’re too tall,” tiffany teases. murmurs into yuri’s mouth. her fingers hook into the belt loops of yuri’s jeans. “and this is annoying. i’m _tired_ and can’t think.”

“you’re fine.”

yuri smiles. shrugs too. doesn’t relent over her for the one, brief floor they climb into the parking garage. she hovers. and tiffany feels herself soften. leans in and brushes another kiss over her mouth. then against her jaw.

“i’m happy you’re here,” she says to yuri. they link hands. “thanks for coming to get me,” she says too.

“always,” yuri says. even though this can’t be true.

for the record: tiffany isn’t in love. has felt something close to it a couple times. probably talked herself out of it too. but when yuri smiles, smiles _at_ her, just her, she feels strange. and desperate. and happy. and sad. and ready to burst because everything is more than just brand new.

for the record? this is something close to it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

here’s a secret; she calls jessica. before she leaves.

okay, so the nuisances are a little less crueler when it’s just the two of them. after sunny, she was the second person to know. maybe mistakenly. but no give backs.

“how do you do this?” she is also drunk before her flight. a week before. it’s not wine, it’s _california!_ and tequila. a bitter taste lives in the back of her throat. “i’m so damn terrified.”

“and i’m tired.” jessica is annoyed. “and was so close to sleeping.”

“instagram says you’re in new york.”

“it’s still midnight, you know. and i’ve had four hours of sleep in thirty six hours. and my business to run.”

“we can’t all be you,” tiffany snaps back. burps and hates herself.

“no,” jessica agrees. she laughs. slurs a little and tiffany has such a ridiculously vivid memory of a sleepy jessica, half-held up with blankets on the couch, feet in taeyeon’s lap. “i’m great. but also tired. like stupidly tired.”

“you told me.”

“you’re not listening,” jessica scoffs.

they’re quiet. tiffany feels the alcohol climb into her head. she still feels the bright lights from the event earlier in her eyes. the dress she wore crumpled into a chair by her bed.

it hits her in a way that she hates. she hasn’t unpacked. there has been a lot happening in the few short weeks since she’s officially said i live here. that sits on the tip of her tongue too.

“so tell me what to do,” she murmurs. voice cracks. “you’ve done this before.”

“you need to quit drinking.” a door opens and closes. she hears jessica greet someone. “and also, this is going to be - there’s no answer. there’s no right away to do this. it’s painful and messy and there are going to be days where you feel like no one is on your side.” jessica’s voice sharpens. “when no one is on your side. your confidence will rank. but you’ll fight and you’ll remember that the only person you have anything to prove is yourself.”

“i’m sorry,” tiffany mumbles. there’s a lump in her throat. it tightens. her eyes are starting to feel heavy.

“why? i told you i was going to be honest with you when we started talking again. why hold back now?”

tiffany snorts. “you’re enjoying this.”

“no.” jessica doesn’t miss a beat. “i wouldn’t wish this part on anyone.” she softens her voice. there’s a rustle of fabric. “but you’re going to be okay. you have to remember that. you’ll get angry. make mistakes. do well. cry. eat too much chocolate. _whatever_. and you’ll surprise yourself. you wouldn’t be doing this otherwise.”

tiffany misses jessica. might have seen her six times in the last couple years. there’s a lot pain, but she knows that jessica will always be jessica. unchanging. there’s comfort in that. and maybe one day she’ll tell her. a dark secret? tiffany is not that brave.

“also,” jessica teases. “congrats on yuri.”

tiffany’s face is burning.

“i hate you,” she says. but she’s smiling. it feels a little hazy. her eyes close. “thanks,” she murmurs too.

later in the morning, she’ll get a text. two. the first is a mass group of avocado emojis. her hangover is in the early stages. cruel. and in between, there’s also an emergency package of sunglasses to battle her inevitable trip to bathroom. at the door and she has to sign for it. while rolling her eyes at her phone.

the sunglasses are still wrapped carefully. large, chic, and jessica without even seeing the logo. they’re beautiful. tiffany is careful.

 _thanks!_ she sends. watches a text bubble become a reply.

the second text is still obnoxious. maybe payback. probably payback and planned. it’s jessica.

_the next pair is not free._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

sex. they have it. for the second time that morning, on yuri’s apartment floor. right by the couch. and yuri drags her nails hard over the carpet. so much so that she starts pulling at fabric threads. it should be funny. but it feels more desperate. kind of like if they don’t do _this_ , it might be the end. and there’s something unsettling about the feeling. panic, maybe. 

“like _this_?” tiffany asks. her voice cracks. she pushes at yuri’s thighs as she stretches herself between them.

“are you -“ yuri gasps when tiffany slides her tongue against her clit. “oh my god,” she breathes.

“wait,” tiffany orders.

her hand spreads over yuri’s stomach. her palm is flat and sticky. when yuri hooks a leg over her shoulder, tiffany slides a finger inside her, watching, fascinated, and then sliding her mouth over yuri’s clit again. she sucks gently. listens intently as yuri makes these sounds, low, aching sounds. her hips press into her mouth. and tiffany feels both sticky and flushed.

she digs her fingers into yuri’s thigh. “i like knowing i can make you like this.” her voice is shaky. yuri mews. “you’re beautiful,” she says, and she’s wet too, really wet, the heat crawling into her stomach as yuri digs her fingers into her hair. it’s fascinating, she thinks. just thinks. because yuri finishes with a loud, desperate cry and tiffany can only laugh with delight.

she trembles a little. untangles from yuri’s thighs to crawl over her. she presses her hips into yuri’s. moans when yuri breathes and arches into her. abruptly. to drag her down and bite her mouth into a kiss.

“it’s no sex on the beach,” yuri teases.

tiffany flushes. “jerk,” she mutters. “and for the record, it was the ocean. Twice.”

“and your shower,” yuri quips. she arches a brow. “ _twice._ ”

“i can’t stand you,” tiffany sighs. then sighs again. mostly because yuri’s fingers are moving over her belly.

“yes you can.” yuri says it suddenly. honestly. looking right at her.

tiffany brushes her mouth over her shoulder instead.

if she thinks about it, she says it. _i missed you_. says it brightly. honestly. with way too much behind it. timing is everything, she tells herself. and if she could go through the history of herself with yuri, there are a lot of things that she would have said then, there, and maybe now.

“you’re going to make it hard to go back,” she murmurs. leans back against the floor. the carpet is cool. beads of sweat gather at the nape of her neck. “and I just got here,” she murmurs.

yuri shakes her head. “there’s no rush.”

“i know.” tiffany meets her gaze. “but i’m selfish.”

and maybe that’s the warning. the only warning. tiffany feels like this is going to tangle a lot faster than she wants it to. you’re panicking, she tells herself. california is sunny. bright. and home. home without being home. or home to her yet.

“and i missed you,” tiffany finishes too. that’s the hard part.

yuri takes her mouth with a kiss.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

dinner is late.

yuri is filming. taeyeon agrees to meet her for italian. a small restaurant by the han river. the price point is mostly for discretion.

her feelings are everywhere, she thinks. sits because she’s early. likes that there’s a window seat in the corner. she watches the play of lights across the window. catches some candlelight and then orders a glass of wine to wait.

when taeyeon arrives, she blurts it out.

“i think i’m in love.”

taeyeon blinks. “what?”

“with yuri.” she waits when the waiter arrives. ignores him when taeyeon orders a drink. she dismisses taeyeon’s face with a wave of her hand. “stop,” she says. “i’m not going to tell her.”

“but... isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

tiffany snorts into her wine. “have you told jessica?” the sharpness in her voice is unapologetic; taeyeon winces. “see,” tiffany presses. “now you get it.”

“not exactly.”

taeyeon looks like this: tired, slightly sour, exactly how her last couple instagram videos looped. there’s been a sharpness to her since california. tiffany knows she’s responsible. but she doesn’t say that out loud either. guilt's pretty cruel.

“she’s romantic,” tiffany murmurs.

taeyeon rolls her eyes. “gross,” she says. and then rubs her eyes. “it’s between the two of you,” she adds. “i’m not picking sides either.”

“you don’t have to.” taeyeon is too easy. translation: this isn’t _about_ you.

a welcomed interruption comes in the form of the waiter and taeyeon’s menu. there’s more wine and a cheese plate. tiffany manages to smile brightly. ignores taeyeon watching her. then waits as they decide to split a couple more plates.

she turns her gaze to the window too. she can’t lie to taeyeon. never has been able to. they have a rare sharpness from time to time. it’s residue; the kind where from time to time, she’d think, remember, and hate that she might have been in love with her best friend too. it’s all smoke and mirrors, or in their case, close quarters and bright lights, of desperately wanting a sense of family that encompasses everything without having to compromise any bit of herself. and then there was jessica. jessica is always first.

“i’m scared that i’m in love,” tiffany admits. “that it’s more than the fact that she’s honest with me and it feels amazing. that she wants me and it’s honest. i feel like it should make sense. but...” she sighs, picking up her wine glass. stares at the reflection of light. “does that make me awful? that i don’t want to say anything. that i don’t think I want to say anything?”

“you guys spent a week together,” taeyeon murmurs. her expression changes. the furrow in her brow is deep.

“over ten years,” tiffany corrects. she shakes her head. “which, like, is even more terrifying if i think about it.”

her lip folds over her glass. the wine feels sour; tiffany swallows half a glass.

“i think,” taeyeon starts quietly, “that this is something you have decide for you. you can’t be with someone until you’re ready to. and that might not be -“

tiffany snorts. “your advice sucks, you know.”

“let me _finish_ ,” taeyeon counters. “you’re putting weight on something that neither of you have had a real conversation about. you’re allowed to miss someone that deeply. _believe_ me,” she laughs and the sound is sharp, almost painful, “i get it. but let yourself live before declaring anything. love. like. whatever. and if it makes you feel better, talk about it together.”

tiffany opens her mouth. closes it. she huffs. she sighs. turns her gaze to the window and stares out to the city and the river. she watches. the patterns of the city. the car lights. the couple holding hands that crosses in front of the restaurant.

there isn’t anymore to say, she thinks.

that scares her the most.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

one night. maybe the final night. she tries to say something. it’s kind of dumb anyway - this is more like a weekend getaway with a stupid long flight. tiffany knows she hasn’t thought any of this through.

yuri is in bed next to her. the lights are off. she’s on her stomach. her breathing soft. tiffany can’t tell if she’s awake.

“what are we doing?” she asks anyway. a shot in the dark. her eyes squeeze shut. and she regrets this instantly. the bed shifts. “now,” she mumbles. “I just -“ she drops a hand over her face. presses her fingers against the bridge of her nose. “i don’t live here anymore.”

she hates how sad she sounds. it's a desperate sound. to her, at least. and the bitter taste in the back of her throat doesn't help. 

but the bed shifts. yuri makes a sound next to her. she listens to her sigh. feels the sheets move underneath them. when yuri drops a hand over her stomach, tiffany feels herself sigh. her mouth puckers before she swallows. inevitability seems to loom over them.

"you sound like taeyeon," yuri says softly. sleepily. in the dark, tiffany listens to the bed shift. then feels yuri turn into her. "i don't know if i should be worried," she says too.

that's a dig. tiffany wrinkles her nose. "she has nothing to do with this," she replies.

yuri sighs. it feels more than just a little weird. and maybe that's it. maybe there's no right thing to say. maybe tiffany wants to hear something and yuri can't give it to her. this is an excuse. and backing away from that feels equal parts dangerous and terrifying.

but yuri's fingers still spread against her stomach. roll into circles. slowly, softly. "that wasn't fair of me," she agrees. "and maybe we do have to have a conversation about where this is going. but maybe not right now? do you think it's necessary that we plan everything? we've lived the majority of our lives that way. plans, dates. people we see. people we don't see. and the control that we have? next to none, even when we go see family."

tiffany turns her head. she swallows. "i think that's what scares me," she admits. finally, if anything. she reaches up to touch yuri's face. "i'm barely holding myself together right now."

"that's okay too, you know."

"is it though?" tiffany presses. "usually i can figure out where i screwed up. but it's been the beginning of the end for awhile."

yuri rolls her eyes. in the dark, she's half-shadowed by the window and street lamps. her hand stops moving over her stomach. tiffany swallows.

"we don't have to call this anything." yuri pauses, then leans in. her mouth brushes against her forehead. "i'm not looking for anything yet." yuri is always a matter of fact; she thumbs tiffany's lip. "and if i am, if this becomes that, we'll talk about that when we get there."

tiffany feels like she's going to burst. she bites a little at yuri's thumb. earns a laugh and a sigh. her eyes are a little wet too. _i think i'm in love with you_ , she almost says. but doesn't. because she can't. and single-handedly, that's the most frustrating thing for her. she is supposed to be open. maybe more than she really is. tiffany is the best kind of liar. and knows it. smiling usually hurts that way.

"you can always come back," yuri says quietly.

tiffany is startled. looks up. shifts closer on the pillow to yuri. their legs tangle and yuri's hand drops from her stomach to her thigh.

i can't, she doesn't say. "i'm always thinking about it," comes out instead.

it feels like this: your own worst enemy is you. someone told her that once. she had been a trainee then. learn to smile. you're not the best dancer. tiffany's applied the will to fight through for what feels like the entirety of her life. and that seems to bleed into the rest of her life.

but yuri feels different. is different. she can pinpoint pieces of where it started as something. or maybe she saw yuri and ignored it. right now: her heart starts to slow and she breathes, kisses yuri, and says something like _sleep, okay_. it's terrifying that she wants to stand on her own. and stand on her own for someone else.

tiffany doesn't sleep that night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

jessica texts her before her flight back.

ironic because she is wearing the sunglasses. wonders if there will be an article that says something like _former girls generation member_ supports _other_ former girls generation. because that’s how it would go.

 _lesson number one_ , the text reads. loud and clear. _smile when you want to_.

for some reason, it makes her laugh.


End file.
